Death's Closest
by MissYuki1990
Summary: You're special, Stiles, and being special doesn't necessarily mean something bad." "Like you?" the teen looked at him and Harry chuckled. "I'm Death, sweetie. You don't get any more special than that." SLASH, IMPLIED THREESOME, RATED M FOR A REASON
1. Take My Hand

**cut**

Written for **Little Raccoon**!

**I hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer:**I don't own the characters of Teen Wolf or Harry Potter. They belong to their respective creators. The song which inspired this story is 'Skyfall' sung by Adele, written by Adele Adkins and Paul Richard Epworth, published by LYRICS©EMI MUSICAL PUBLISHING, UNIVERSAL MUSIC PUBLISHING GROUP

**Warnings:**slash, some violence, some fight-scenes, some cursing, so if you don't like, don't read!

ENJOY!

**cut**

"Are you sure they're coming?" the True Alpha spoke in a weak, wavering voice.

He was tired. They were _all_ tired; tired and scared.

John and Melissa were sitting on the couch in the back of Derek's loft. Allison and Lydia were squished together in an armchair beside them. Aiden and Ethan were leaning on the wall beside the entrance door while Scott and Isaac took seats at the table with Deaton standing close to them.

Derek looked first at Chris who was hovering beside Allison, standing beside the armchair with his left arm resting on the backrest and then at Deaton who raised his left eyebrow minutely at him.

"He'll be here as soon as possible. I told you; he had some business to attend to in London. I don't know if he returned yet. I hadn't seen or heard from him since I came back to Beacon Hills."

"Are you sure he'll come?" John asked and Derek looked at him.

"I trust him," was his answer, and Scott exchanged a glance with Isaac, Allison and Lydia. If Derek trusted this man, then he really must be something.

"Aw, Derek!" Everyone jumped on their feet when someone spoke from the shadows.

Everyone but Derek, that is. The oldest werewolf among them merely straightened and a small smirk tugged on his lips.

"I'm truly honored."

They frowned when a man around Derek's height walked out from the shadows under the round staircase and stopped with his hands pushed deep into the pockets of his black hoody. His stance was relaxed and his lose clothing did nothing to hide his build. His shoulders, although a bit hunched, were strong, and there was an awareness around him that spoke of experience on the battlefield.

"How long have you been here?" Derek asked and the man's thin lips tilted into a small smile as emerald eyes, somewhat obscured by rimless glasses, glimmered mischievously.

"That's not important. The important thing is how the hell did he get in without anyone noticing him," Aiden bit out and pushed away from the wall. There was something about the raven-haired newcomer that put him on edge a bit; something like an aura of danger which seemed to be rolling off of him in steady waves. "The apartment hasn't been empty since yesterday night."

He just chuckled at Aiden before looking at Derek, brushing the twin off as though he was of no importance. "You called," he bowed mockingly at Derek, "and I answered. What seems to be the problem?"

"Are you fucking ignoring-…" Aiden's roar turned into a gasp and Ethan jumped forward to catch his twin when Aiden stumbled and his hands flew to his throat.

"Don't," the man spoke and his eyes darkened, "just _don't_. I've dealt with bigger and stronger werewolves than you in my time, so I suggest you step back. The only reason I came here is because Derek asked me to come. Now," he looked at Derek, "what seems to be the problem?"

"Maybe you should first introduce yourself?" Deaton spoke calmingly and the man raised an eyebrow at Derek who simply shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You told them _nothing_?"

Derek's eyebrows rose while his lips tugged into a smirk. A moment later, everyone gaped when the man started laughing.

"You see, _this_ is why I like you, Derek Hale! A chip of the old block, you are."

Derek chuckled and shrugged his massive shoulders while the man shook his head with a smile full of fondness on his face.

"Mind telling us who you are?" Isaac spoke warily as he glanced first at Derek and then at the man. Derek never acted like that around them so this man must have been someone really special. "And why Derek thinks you can help us."

"Derek doesn't _think_ I can help you. He _knows_ I can help you," the man drawled and started a slow stroll towards Derek. The werewolf stood still while other man circled him. He stopped right in front of Derek and crossed his arms over his chest. "Question is if I _should_ help you."

"Harry..." The werewolf rolled his eyes with a huff, and _Harry_ chuckled again.

"You know I have my limitations, Derek. Some things are set in stone."

"Not this," Derek answered and Harry laughed again.

"You're just like your mother, Hale," he murmured as he shook his head.

"You've known Derek's mother?" Scott stepped forward and Harry looked at him.

Harry glanced at Derek and the werewolf nodded minutely. Harry hummed and faced Scott fully before he slowly strolled over to the young Alpha with arms falling to his sides before he put his hands in his pockets again. He stopped right in front of Scott and tilted his head to the side as though he was studying him.

"So, you're the _True Alpha,_" he murmured and Scott shivered when the man leaned forward a bit, emerald eyes full of something Scott couldn't name. Isaac shifted his weight and Harry's head snapped to the side, eyes focusing on him immediately. "Don't worry, Isaac. I'm not here to hurt you."

"You have yet to introduce yourself," Chris pressed out through his teeth, only to gasp when Harry suddenly appeared right in front of him, emerald eyes darker and his lips stretched into a grin.

"You have a lot of blood on your hands, _Christopher Argent,_" Harry spoke in a hollow, deep voice, and even though they wanted to move, suddenly everyone found themselves practically rooted to their spots. "A lot of people died either by your hand or by the hand of your family. Makes me wonder - where will you go when your day comes?"

Chris' eyes widened and he swallowed difficultly while Harry smirked darkly. "Who are you?" Chris breathed out and Harry vanished again only to appear perched on top of a chair in the back of the room.

"I have many names," he said as he crossed his legs and placed his hands on the backrest under his thighs. "17 years ago I was known as Harry Potter." Everyone looked at Deaton when the Druid gasped and his eyes widened, and Harry chuckled. "Nowadays I am known as The Bane of Existence, The Great Reaper, The Darkness, The Master of Death, or simply _Death_."

Heavy silence settled over the gathered people while they stared at Harry in utmost fear. They looked at Derek incredulously when he chuckled and saw the oldest werewolf among them shake his head at Harry.

"You always knew how to make an entrance."

Harry chuckled and all of a sudden it felt as though a huge pressure was lifted and everyone could breathe again. "I _am_ _Death_, darling. What am I without a great entrance? You could learn a few things, actually," he drawled and Derek snorted.

"You're kidding, right?" everyone looked at Ethan. "You can't actually expect of us to believe that _you're_ Death?!"

Harry raised an eyebrow at him with a dull expression. "Darling, I hadn't died twice and Mastered the Deathly Hallows for nothing. Whether you believe it or not, is not my problem. The fact is that _one day_ you'll believe it, and if you continue on the track you're walking, that day might come sooner than you think."

"Are you threatening us?!" Aiden and Ethan stepped forward and Harry raised eyebrows with actual amusement coloring his face.

"I'm merely stating a fact," he shrugged his shoulders and looked at Lydia who was staring at him with wide eyes and parted lips. "As a matter of fact, you can ask your little Banshee here. She'll be happy to confirm my claims." Lydia gasped and took a small step back when those emerald eyes dove into hers. "It's grown awfully quiet, hasn't it, Lydia?" he asked and the Banshee swallowed before she nodded quickly. "You can't hear anything, right?"

"Y-Yes," she stuttered out and Harry smiled at her in an almost gentle way.

"You're a Bond, Lydia. You are a tether between the other world and this one. I've met a few Banshees in my time. You're still a baby compared to them. You still hold on to this world too much."

"How do you mean that?" Allison asked and stepped in front of Lydia as though to protect her, and Allison found herself subject of that deep gaze.

"A part of her is still refusing the powers she was granted. She fears them," Harry stated and shrugged. "It is only normal with how many misinterpretations you have about death and Banshees. For once, they are not here to announce _anyone's_ death. Every second someone in the world dies. If a Banshee was the announcer of death, they'd be screaming themselves hoarse every second of the day," he sounded almost _amused_.

"Then what am I?!" Lydia snapped and rounded Allison. "Every time I've screamed someone was found dead!"

"That's because you weren't listening, dear,." Harry spoke tenderly. "A Banshee screams only when someone who was not supposed to die is facing his or hers end." Lydia choked up and stepped back. "Your scream serves to dull out the sounds of the world of the living, so you could hear the whispers of the Shadows."

"Shadows?"

"M-hm!" Harry nodded and shrugged his shoulders. "Actually, they are called Saplavites; the scavengers for the Damned. They are everywhere around us, hiding in the shadows of the world. Much like Guardian Angels, they are hidden from sight, waiting for those who are damned. They feed off of fear and pain. _You_, my dear Lydia, can hear their screams. They are senseless beings who know nothing but their Hunger, and they wait for those who die before their time so that they can feed off of their pain and fear. A Banshee who learns how to listen to them can help stop the death of a human whose time hasn't come yet." He clapped his hands and hopped off of the chair. "But I doubt Derek called me here to teach you about being a Banshee," he raised an eyebrow at Derek. "So? Who needs saving?"

Derek looked at Scott, while the others exchanged glances full of confusion.

"My son," John spoke up and Harry looked at him. "He is – he is possessed by _something.._."

"The Void," Harry interrupted him and everyone frowned when he stilled, his facial-lines became dull and expressionless, and his eyes darkened to almost black. "A rage-full, vengeful spirit," he looked at Derek, and the werewolf nodded. "He walked out of the Darkness; out of his Cage. How?"

Deaton was about to answer but Harry just raised his right hand towards him, not even looking at the Emissary and shook his finger at him.

"Don't," Harry stopped Deaton, bowing his head and tilting it to the side as though he was listening to something no one else could hear. "You've committed a Sacrifice; three of them. It attached itself to the one who had the most to lose," he looked at Derek and froze. "The one with a heart full of regrets and sorrow; a heart which wanted nothing else but to be powerful enough to protect those he cherishes. A Spark!" he turned and looked at Deaton. "You should have trained him. The moment you realized that he had the Spark you should have taken him under your wing and trained him. This never would have happened if you did that!"

Deaton swallowed difficultly and bowed his head. "I know. I thought we had time. He is only a child."

"He stopped being a child when he helped take a life!" Harry thundered and everyone shivered. "Even though he saved people, it left a mark on his heart! He needed protection!"

"Harry!" The raging man turned to look at Derek. "Don't. What's done is done. Can we save him?"

Harry frowned and looked at the ground. His lips parted slightly as he took a small step forward and flexed his hands by his sides, tilting his head to the right a bit as a shiver wrecked his body.

He stilled and looked at Derek. "He will never be the same again. He will never be your _Stiles_ again," he murmured in the heavy silence which settled over the room.

"Will he live?" Harry turned to face John whose eyes were filled with desperation.

"He will," he said. "He will still be your son," he turned to face John completely, "but he let it in; the Void. He let it in. He gazed too deep into the Darkness. His mind and heart will perhaps remain the same; _perhaps,_" he stressed, "but he won't be Stiles anymore. He won't be human anymore."

"What will he be?" John asked while Melissa wrapped her hands around his arm, offering silent support.

Harry hummed and looked at Derek. "Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster," Harry murmured and everyone looked at Lydia when she snapped her lips closed, fisted her hands by her sides and squeezed her eyes tightly shut as she tried to stop herself from screaming, "and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you." (1) He looked at Lydia and she gulped. "Lydia?" she shook her head frantically as he took a step towards her. "I need you to _scream_."

In the next moment, she took a deep breath, and everyone in the room besides her and Harry fell to their knees as she screamed louder than she ever screamed before.

It stopped suddenly and everyone looked up with a gasp. Their eyes widened when they looked at Harry who stood still with his head bowed and his fringe casting shadows over his eyes.

"Harry?" Derek questioned as he stood up.

"Stay here. He is coming. I'll come back quickly," With that Harry disappeared in a gust of black sand.

For a few moments there was silence while everyone stood up all the while exchanging glances full of confusion and wonder.

"Did – Did that really happen?" Scott asked while he helped Isaac, who was still somewhat weak, over to a chair.

"Unless we've just experienced a collective hallucination?" Allison spoke as she helped Lydia take a seat. "I believe it did."

"You have some explaining to do, Hale," Chris bit out and Derek raised an eyebrow. "How the hell do you know _Death_?" Derek's eyebrows met the line of his hair and Chris choked up when he realized what he just said. "You – You know what I mean."

Derek sighed and shook his head before he looked at Scott. "You remember what I told you about why I left with Cora?"

"You said that you needed answers; that you needed to talk to your mother."

Derek nodded as he raised his left hand and rubbed the back of his neck. "I used a ritual to do that and managed to talk with her."

"What did she tell you?" Deaton asked and Derek looked at him from under his eyebrows.

"A lot of things," Derek murmured. "One of which is that there is a man out there that I can trust absolutely. She said that he is the only Ultimate Justice in the world. She said that she met him only once; when she died. He was there when my Pack burned to death. He collected them all. He told her that they weren't supposed to die and that because of it, she could ask one thing from him," he chuckled and shook his head.

"What is it?" Scott asked.

"Nothing. I just remember being surprised that _Death_ actually offered favors to people who died before their time, but then she explained to me that Death is the Guardian of the Order. It is his job to uphold the order of all things by making sure that people die when they're supposed to and go where they are supposed to go." He looked at Chris and the Hunter frowned. "He doesn't appreciate people taking Justice into their own hands."

"What did your mother ask of him?" Isaac asked and Derek looked at him.

"She asked him to make sure my sisters and I were alright. She also told me that Laura _was_ supposed to die when she did. She would have been killed by either Hunters or Peter; that she was losing herself because she was never meant to be an Alpha, and that eventually it would have destroyed her."

"So…" Melissa cleared her throat when Derek looked at her. "You have _Death_ as your Guardian Angel?"

Derek chuckled and shrugged his massive shoulders. "In a way, yes. He won't save me when my time comes, but in the mean time, he said he would do his best to keep me alive as token to my family's death."

"Can he really help Stiles?" John asked weakly and Derek nodded.

"I don't know how, but he will help him. Like I said, he despises those who bring disorder, and with how much we know about the Nogitsune we can say that it's bringing chaos with it. I have no doubt that Harry will want to deal with it."

"What did he mean when he said 'he is coming'?" Melissa asked and the others exchanged glances.

"I may be wrong," Deaton spoke up and everyone looked at him. "But he might have meant that the Nogitsune is on his way here."

"Why would it come to Derek's place?" Aiden asked and Derek shrugged.

"Think about it," Lydia spoke up and everyone looked at her. She was still pale and shivering, but she was also staring at Derek as though she was reading him like an open book. "This place – this place is full of pain and sorrow," she whispered and Derek nodded.

"You all need to leave."

"What?!" Scott snapped and Derek looked at him. "You can't expect of us…"

"The Nogitsune is coming here for _me_, Scott! Harry will do whatever he needs to do to save him, but it won't work if we're all here standing in his way. The Nogitsune can't know that we have a way of stopping him. And besides, I don't trust Chris and the twins around Harry _or_ Stiles!"

"Hey!"

"Don't," Derek interrupted Chris and the twins, and glared at him. "The only way you three know how to deal with a threat is to destroy it with no questions asked. We don't know what the Nogitsune will do. I don't know how Harry will handle all of this. What I _do_ know, is that we can't be rash or make the Nogitsune feel threatened."

"So what; you're telling us to leave?" John asked and took a step towards Derek. "You're asking of _me_ to walk away _knowing_ that my son's on his way here? You're asking me to trust _Death_ around _my son_?!"

Derek just straightened not showing any reaction to John's rage. "Stiles saved my life. He helped me more times than I care to count,." Derek stated calmly. "He's a noisy little _brat_ who pushed himself where he doesn't belong, but because of that I feel free to say that many of us wouldn't be here today if it weren't for him. So, do you really think that I would let someone harm him? Do you really think that I am so ungrateful as to allow a kid that saved my life _die_?"

John swallowed difficultly and bowed his head.

"Harry will help him. He will bring Stiles back. And I assure you; the Nogitsune will suffer for what he did to Stiles. He _will_ suffer."

**cut**

Derek looked up when the door to his apartment opened and his hands fisted on his knees.

That walk, that stance, the position of those deceivingly fragile shoulders,; it was all _wrong_. The gleam in those whiskey colored eyes which put him on edge before with thoughts of what was running through that head, was replaced by darkness and rage. Full, cupid bow lips were chapped and even from the other side of the room, Derek could see drops of dried blood in the cracks. Once cream colored skin was now pale and sickly, and there were dark circles under those expressive eyes.

"I'm surprised to find you here, Derek. Didn't you get my presents?" the voice which passed those lips was cracked and raspy, and it sent shivers down Derek's spine.

"I had to come back and thank you," he murmured and stood up while the Nogitsune walked slowly to the middle of Derek's loft.

The werewolf approached him slowly, and they stopped several feet apart. Derek checked Stiles' body over before his eyes settled on those eyes filled with malicious intent, trying to find something, _anything_ that would tell him that Stiles was still in there; that the teen hadn't given up yet. A mockery of a smile tugged on those chapped lips and Derek's mouth went dry.

"I hadn't thought I would find you here, Derek. Although, I have to admit, I'm glad I did." The Nogitsune raised Stiles' eyebrows and nodded as he shifted his weight and leaned forward as though the body he was possessing was becoming too heavy for him.

"You're hungry," Derek concluded and the Nogitsune chuckled.

"Why do you think I came _here_?" he raised his hands a bit and his eyes darted to the sides. "It's all in our head, Derek. We know of all the pain in this place, and we came to _feed_."

Derek swallowed and steeled his stance as he fisted his hands by his sides. "Why him?" he asked and the Nogitsune raised Stiles' right eyebrow at bit. "Why Stiles? Why not someone more…"

"Powerful?" the thing possessing Stiles chuckled as he took a step to the side and looked around. He breathed in and out with closed eyes and Stiles' shoulders sagged a bit. "Because he was the only one among you who was willing to risk _everything_. He lost his mother when he was very young, you know? He still feels guilty. He feels like he should have done something to save her. That wish resulted in him doing everything in his power to protect those he cares about. His father, his best friend, you; all of you are people Stiles wants to protect. Because of that, I have a perfect Vessel. His pain is my food. Your fear, your pain because you can't protect him is like a sweet nectar just _waiting_ to be drunk."

"You're feeding off of him," Derek pressed out through his teeth and the Nogitsune chuckled darkly.

"Of course I am," he drawled. "He's my Vessel. He let me in. You should hear him, Derek. You should hear him begging me to stop. You should hear him _screaming_ and _pleading_ for your life."

Derek fisted his hands so hard he felt his nails pierce the thin skin of his palms. "What do you want?" he bit out through tightly clenched teeth and the Nogitsune smirked at him.

"I want the world, Derek. Everything was taken from me. I was left alone and suffering in the Void. I spent so much time in it that I became a part of it. It became a part of _me_. I _am_ the Void, and I will spread over this world like a plague and _feed_ off of _every single human_ as they wallow in _pain_ and _suffering_and _pure chaos._" The Nogitsune breathed out and those eyes which once read Derek like an open book, filled with such malicious intent it made him feel like his guts were filling with lead.

"You won't make it. You _will_ be stopped."

The Nogitsune chuckled and shook Stiles' head. "I'm afraid you can't stop me, Derek. Your friends won't come after me because not one of them wants to risk hurting Stiles. You can't stop me if you don't kill him, Derek. If you want it all to end, you have to kill Stiles." He snickered and looked around. "Now, the question remains, if you'd be able to do that?"

**cut**

_This is the end._  
><em>Hold your breath and count to ten.<em>  
><em>Feel the earth move and then<em>  
><em>hear my heart burst again.<em>

**cut**

Derek pressed his teeth tightly together and swallowed while the Nogitsune took a step towards him.

"Would you be able to stick your hand in his chest and rip his heart out?" it whispered almost seductively. "Would your heart be able to handle taking the life of the one who risked it time and time again to save you; to help you? Would you be able to look into his eyes as light faded from them like the timid glow of a dying firefly? Would you, Derek?"

Iit stopped right in front of Derek looking deep into his eyes with his lips a breath away from Derek's.

"He started to like you, you know? He started feeling something towards you; something akin to _love_. He started seeing you as someone important to him. Someone he was willing to _die_ for just to make sure they'd be safe. His daddy, Scott and his mother, that little Banshee – they were the only ones important to him until you came around. They were the only ones who mattered until he truly looked into your eyes for the first time and saw the same pain he saw in his eyes every time he'd look into a mirror. You and him weren't so different, Derek. It's a pity you couldn't see it. You may have been the spark of will that would have stopped me from possessing him."

Derek's eyes widened with every word that spilled off of Stiles' lips and he found himself unable to breathe.

"You could have saved him, Derek. You could have saved him."

**cut**

_For this is the end._  
><em>I've downed and dreamt this moment;<em>  
><em>so overdue I owe them.<em>  
><em>Swept away, I'm frozen.<em>

**cut**

"I can still save him." Derek pressed out through his teeth and the Nogitsune chuckled, and Derek choked up when all of a sudden, there was a hand around his throat, squeezing with more strength than there was supposed to be in that weakened body.

He couldn't breathe or move, and ever so slowly as the grip the Nogitsune had on Derek's neck grew stronger, Derek sunk lower and lower until his knees met the ground and the Nogitsune crouched in front of him, staring into his eyes with a maniacal grin.

"You can't save anyone, Derek; not him, not yourself. _Anyone_."

In the next moment the Nogitsune was thrown back and Derek fell forward to his arms as Scott and Isaac landed in front of him, Aiden and Ethan appeared on either side of the room, while Melissa, John, Chris, Allison and Lydia stood behind him, armed with crossbows and guns. Neither looked willing to raise them, and all of them except for Aiden and Ethan, looked pained.

"Stop this!" Scott roared and the Nogitsune raised Stiles' head as he picked himself up off of the floor. Stiles' features were twisted into an ugly, hate-filled sneer as he stood up with his torso bowed forward and hands fisted in front of him.

"Well, well, well," he pressed out through clenched teeth. "The whole _Pack_ is here."

"Leave my son's body," John growled and the Nogitsune looked at him.

"Why should I? He's my free-passage ticket," he bit out.

"You won't get out of here," Lydia stepped forward. "You won't hurt anyone else."

The Nogitsune threw Stiles' head back and laughed. "Really now?!" he thundered. "And _who will stop me_?!"

"I will."

Everyone gasped as the Nogitsune turned around on Stiles' heel and came face to face with Harry. The raven-haired man looked calm and collected; as though he wasn't standing in front of a monster. The Nogitsune took a step back and the frown on Stiles' face melted into an expression of confusion.

"You? Who – _What_ are you?"

The right corner of Harry's lips twitched up as he dug his hands into the pockets of his hoody and shrugged his right shoulder. "No one in particular," he spoke carelessly and the Nogitsune took a step back as he squinted at Harry.

"I can feel nothing. You're – You're _empty_."

Harry chuckled and looked around as the Nogitsune took a careful step back. "You have been a very bad boy," he stated as he looked at the Nogitsune and took a step forward.

"Who are you?" the voice that came out of Stiles' mouth was wavering and weak, and full of fear as Stiles' body stumbled backwards while Harry took slow, measured steps towards him.

"Judgment," Harry bit out and his eyes turned pitch black in a second, and with a burst of power everyone was pushed back.

A choked up scream made them look up and their eyes widened when they saw two huge black wolves on either side of Stiles' kneeling form, with their jaws clenched around Stiles' wrists keeping him in place while Harry stood above him, looking down at him with something akin to disgust on his face.

"What are you?!" the Nogitsune screamed as Harry raised his right hand and placed it on Stiles' forehead.

_"The End of All Things,"_his voice was distorted and it shook something deep within everyone in the room. In the next moment a wave of power burst from Harry, pushing everyone down, and they covered their ears when screams full of pain and desperation tore out of Stiles' throat.

"Stiles!" the Sheriff of Beacon Hills slowly raised his head, resisting the huge pressure which settled on them all. His eyes widened and his breath hitched in his throat when he saw something that resembled a dark spirit being pushed out of Stiles' body. It was clinging to his son as though it would never let go, and John made himself look up at Harry who looked _different_.

Harry's hair seemed longer as it danced around his head, snapping in the tornado-like current which danced around him and Stiles. His skin was pale white and his eyes, no longer obscured by glasses, were like two wells of darkness. _"Be gone!" _his voice shook the building and with another earsplitting scream, the Nogitsune left Stiles' body and dissolved into nothing.

The hounds vanished and Harry lurched forward to catch Stiles as his body fell backwards. He cradled him in his arms as Stiles' body went lax and his head swayed back allowing John to see his dull, dead eyes.

"S-Stiles?" John stuttered out breathlessly while the others gathered themselves off of the floor.

Derek, who was closest to Harry and Stiles managed to crawl over to them and he looked down at Stiles before he looked at Harry. "What – What's wrong with him?" he asked breathlessly and Harry spared him a glance.

"He is locked within his mind," he murmured as he cupped Stiles' cheek in his right hand and looked into his eyes. He took a deep, unnecessary breath and looked at Derek. "I need you to be my anchor Derek. I am bound to more than just this world, and if I don't have someone to anchor me, I might break the bond Stiles has with this world when I enter his mind."

"So, you can bring him back?" Derek asked weakly and Harry nodded.

"Just don't let go."

Derek nodded and took a hold of Harry's right shoulder with his left hand. "I won't."

Harry looked at Stiles, closed his eyes as he raised Stiles' head up and rested his forehead against Stiles'. Lydia gasped and everyone but John, who was focused on Stiles, looked at her.

"Lydia?" Allison called out weakly as Lydia leaned forward on her hands. Her eyes were unfocused and she was gasping for breath.

"Hurry," Lydia breathed out. "You have to hurry. He's fading. He's fading!"

"Don't worry," Harry's voice was muffled, but they all heard him. "He's not going anywhere."

**cut**

Harry frowned as he looked around.

He knew very well where he was, but the sight of the teen's mind made something he hadn't felt in almost 17 years shift in him; something he thought he wasn't able to feel anymore.

The world around him was without color. It was gray and in such disarray that it pained him. Not even his mind during the war was in such a sorry state.

"I should have made that Nogitsune suffer more," He muttered into his chin as he looked around what seemed to be a child's room.

There were numerous photos along the walls and different toys littered the ground. One big teddy-bear was in the corner beside a wooden door, its hallow eyes focused on Harry as though it was evaluating him.

Knowing that he was in Stiles' mind place, Harry made sure not to disturb anything. He made his way towards the door, keeping the teddy-bear in sight. He had been in enough mind-places to know that nothing could be taken lightly. People chose strange things to be their traps. He reached the door and slowly took a hold of the doorknob. He opened the door and stepped out closing the door once he was out the hallway. He looked around and took a deep, unnecessary breath.

"Stiles?" he called out as he made his way towards the staircase. "Stiles, I know you're here. I won't hurt you. I'm a friend of Derek's. Stiles?" he reached the staircase and looked down. He thought he saw a flash of color down there, and he slowly made his way down. "Stiles? The Nogitsune is gone. I know you can feel it. You're safe now." He tried to sound as reassuring as he could, but somehow he knew that it wasn't working. He reached the bottom of the stairs and sighed.

He closed his eyes and concentrated.

He didn't have time to look for Stiles in his mind place. Stiles was in there long enough. If he didn't get the teen out of there soon, they would lose him. His body would fall into a coma, and there would be nothing Harry would be able to do then. He needed to get the boy out of there, and he needed to do it _now._

He felt a flitter of energy coming from the left and he opened his eyes. He saw the entrance to the kitchen and on the other side of the room he saw a door leading outside. He walked over and got out of the house only to raise an eyebrow when he found himself in the middle of a dark forest.

A Full Moon was shining down on him through thick branches, and when he turned around he chuckled after finding out that there was nothing behind him but a single door.

"You're good, Stiles. When I was your age I could barely muster up a single room," he commented, knowing that wherever Stiles was in this forest the teen could hear Harry.

This was Stiles' mind-place after all; he had complete control over it.

"But you already know that, Stiles; don't you? You're good. You'll only become stronger with time," Harry spoke as he walked further into the forest, concentrating on that single spot of energy he could feel up front. "They're worried about you, Stiles. They want you back. The Nogitsune is gone. He won't ever hurt you again. You need to go back."

He took another step forward only to duck and roll to the side when he heard the whistle of wind coming from the right and when he looked up he saw an arrow embedded into a tree. He chuckled and stood up.

"You're _really_ good," he murmured into his chin and thought he heard a dry, tired chuckle coming from somewhere nearby.

He walked forward listening carefully for the wind in the branches. He stopped and frowned when he found himself in the middle of a clearing, and fisted his hands when he saw the Nemeton in the middle of it.

"Well, this explains a lot of things," he pressed out through his teeth.

"Does it?" he

Harry looked to the side and his heart clenched when he saw Stiles leaning against a tree some 10 feet away from him.

The teen looked tired and drained. His skin was pale, his eyes dull and lips chapped. His cheeks were slightly indrawn, although it could have only seemed so because of the shadows cast upon the young man by the moon breaking through the dark clouds gathering in the sky.

Their eyes met and Harry felt something in his stomach twist and turn.

"It does."

"Like what?" Stiles moved away from the tree and took a step towards Harry who stood still with his hands relaxed by his sides.

"Like why the Nogitsune held such a sway over you. You sacrificed your life to find your father and a Banshee served as your anchor. You're still partly in the Void. You're already a part of it."

Stiles' eyebrows twitched above hallow eyes and he stopped a foot in front of Harry. Being the same height, they stared right into one another's eyes, and Stiles' lips twitched into a small smile.

Harry chuckled in turn and shook his head. "Well, I'll be damned," he murmured and Stiles' left eyebrow jumped up.

"Aren't you already?"

Harry snorted and shook his head. "I've been damned since the day I was born. Happens when you have a prophecy hanging over your head."

Stiles hummed and looked at the Nemeton. "What is happening to me?" he whispered and Harry looked at the teen's face. Something appeared in Stiles' eyes. Something resembling fear, which Harry for some reason, could recognize quite well.

"You are part of the Void, Stiles. You're changing."

"So I'm not human anymore?"

Harry hummed and looked at the Nemeton. "In a way you are. In another way you're not." He saw Stiles' nod from the corner of his eye, and the teen crossed his arms over his chest as his shoulders hunched forward and he seemed to pull in on himself.

"What will happen to me?" he whispered brokenly and Harry turned to face him. The teen shivered when Harry placed his fingers under Stiles' chin and raised his head up to look into those beautiful eyes.

"Honestly? I don't know. Something like this has never happened before. I don't know what you are. What I _do_ know is that you're different. You're powerful. You're unlike any other Spark in the world, and trust me there are many. You're special, Stiles, and being special doesn't necessarily mean something bad."

"Like you?" the teen looked at him and Harry chuckled.

"I'm Death, sweetie. You don't get any more special than that."

Stiles chuckled and Harry's eyebrows met the line of his hair when the teen moved forward and rested his forehead on Harry's right shoulder. Harry swallowed with slight difficulties when a wave of something he hadn't felt in years traveled down his body.

Warmth such as Harry didn't remember feeling in the past 17 years enveloped him, and almost as though his arms had a mind of their own, he wrapped them around Stiles' thin, weakened frame and pulled the teen closer to himself.

"I'm tired," Stiles whispered and Harry's eyes widened when he felt tears on his shoulder. "I'm so _fucking_ tired."

"I know," Harry suppressed the shiver which wanted to wreck his body when Stiles wrapped his arms around Death's shoulders and moved as close as he could get. "I know you are, Stiles. But it will get better. I promise. Things will get better."

"When?"

Harry closed his eyes and simply let go.

He had heard legends. There were stories of Deaths that came before him finding that one person that could make Death feel. That one being that could make Death _human_ again.

Harry thought them stories. He thought they were nothing but myths.

But this teen, this _child_ which suffered more in the past year of his short life than many Harry reaped in the past 17 years, moved something in Harry. Stiles made him feel something more than compassion and rage. He made Harry feel more than the sense of duty and the pleasure of a job well done.

Stiles made him feel warm.

'He is a Reaper.'

The whisper which flittered through Harry's mind made him choke up and gasp and Stiles moved back a little to look at Harry's face.

"You're a Reaper?" Harry whispered brokenly and Stiles frowned in confusion.

"A Reaper? I thought – I thought you were Death. I thought Death was the Reaper."

"Even though I'm Death I cannot be in every single place in the world all the time." Harry murmured as his eyes darted all over Stiles' face. "It – It would make sense. You tasted Death. You've seen the Void. It would only make sense."

"What are you-…" Stiles choked up when Harry raised his hands and cupped Stiles' cheeks with them. He looked deep in Stiles' eyes and the teen stopped breathing from the intensity of Harry's emerald-eyed stare.

"Hush," Harry murmured comfortingly and caressed Stiles' cheeks with his thumbs. "Concentrate. Feel. Everything will make sense."

Stiles swallowed difficultly as he took a hold of Harry's wrists and slowly closed his eyes.

"Feel it, Stiles. Feel the connection you have with both Worlds. Feel it. Feel _me."_

Stiles' eyes snapped open when unimaginable power coursed through him and his eyes widened when he looked deep in Harry's eyes and saw darkness such as he's never seen before. There was so much in that Darkness. There was pain and suffering, but there was also peace and justice; there was comfort and retribution. Such a riddling spectrum of things glowed in that Darkness that it took Stiles' breath away.

"You really _are_ special, Stiles. A living Reaper. Death's closest." Harry chuckled and took a step back as he let go of Stiles' face.

With a fearful whimper Stiles took a firmer hold of Harry's wrists, stopping him from moving any further.

Death was in his mind. For this short time, he was a part of him. He saw it all. He saw Death's past and present. He felt his emotions as though they were his own. If he concentrated, he could see something about Harry that didn't exactly fit in with everything else in Stiles' mind. Everything there was gray; everything but Harry's incredible emerald eyes and something see-through, metallic-blue that was wrapped around Harry like a shield.

Harry was right. Everything _did_ make sense. With Harry there, it all made sense.

All of a sudden, the fear Stiles felt, the pain which lingered in his limbs, the horror which ruled his mind for weeks all faded into the background of his mind.

Harry tensed up as he looked around and his eyes widened when everything around him started to shift. His mouth dried when he saw the ground under him start to change color. Grass slowly started to turn green and he gaped when he looked up into the sky and saw that the silvery light of the moon turned into the mysterious color of mercury and the sky became dark blue. He looked at Stiles and his eyes widened when the teen's skin turned creamy, his hair turned dark brown, and his eyes turned into a strange color of whiskey.

If Harry looked close enough he could see specks of something he couldn't quite discern within those brownish-golden depths; it looked like fireflies were dancing in them.

"What does that make me?" Stiles spoke in a wavering, ever strengthening voice. "What am I to you?"

"My closest," Harry spoke in a tight voice, and Stiles noticed the traces of wonder and amazement in it. "The only one who can without fear touch Death and live."

Stiles swallowed difficultly. "Yeah, but – but what does that mean? What will that mean to my dad; to my friends?" Harry shook his head.

"Nothing. To them you'll still be Stiles. They will see that you're different; stronger. You will live your life with them. You will age and change. But – But once your time comes, once your human life ends. You will take your rightful place beside me."

Stiles licked his lips and this time Harry couldn't stop the shiver which traveled all over his body.

Stiles was a handsome young man. Harry found himself thinking that he couldn't wait for Stiles to grow up.

"And what will that entail?" Stiles asked as he took a step closer. "What will happen to me then?"

"You will become a Reaper. Together with me and my Hounds, you will gather souls when their time comes. You will become the Right Hand of Death." Stiles nodded as he stopped a breath away from Harry. Death's eyes, from this close, seemed even more amazing. "And that way, you will never lose contact with your friends and family. You will always know where they are. You'll always be able to see them; talk to them."

A small smile tugged on Stiles' lips as Harry's own memories of meeting his family after he became Death filled his mind.

"That doesn't sound too bad," he murmured with his lips hardly a hair away from Harry's. "That doesn't sound too bad at all." Harry chuckled and rested his forehead against Stiles'.

Stiles shivered when Harry's thoughts filled his mind; his joy at no longer having to be alone made Stiles' heart clench.

"You won't be alone anymore," Stiles wasn't even aware that he said that out loud before Harry chuckled breathlessly.

"What makes you think that I was ever alone?" he muttered through barely parted lips.

"The beating of your heart," Stiles answered without really thinking about it, because it was true. He could hear it. Slow and steady, almost nonexistent, but he could hear Harry's heartbeat

And he could feel Harry's joy.

"They are waiting for you," Harry said and took a small step back, only to halt when Stiles grabbed his wrists again.

"They'll still be waiting in a minute," he countered and Harry swallowed with slight difficulties.

"What about Derek?" he asked and Stiles stilled. "He _does_ care about you, you know?"

Stiles tilted his head to the side slightly and Harry felt something surge up his spine when Stiles' eyes darkened and lips stretched into a smirk. "Can't I have the both of you?"

Harry's eyebrows met the line of his hair and Stiles' right eyebrow rose up a bit. "Are you sure you can handle a Werewolf and Death?" Harry drawled and Stiles smirked.

"The question is will you two be able to handle _me?"_

Harry snickered and allowed Stiles to pull him closer. He wrapped his arms around the teen's waist and looked in Stiles' eyes. He frowned when he saw specks of fear and doubt cleverly hidden and stored in the back of Stiles' mind, but not far enough for Death to miss them.

"You'll never be hurt again, Stiles. I promise," Harry swore as he nudged Stiles' nose with his, making the teen swallow the surprise which bubbled up in his throat. "And when Death makes a promise it keeps it."

"I know." Stiles answered and Harry smiled. "I know."

And in the moment Harry leaned in and kissed Stiles, everything around them burst into color.

**cut**

_Where you go I go._  
><em> What you see I see.<em>  
><em> I know I'd never be me<em>  
><em> without the security of your loving arms<em>  
><em> keeping me from harm.<em>

**cut**

'It's time to go back, Stiles.'

The teen heard a whisper as he leaned into the kiss, and for the first time in a long, long while he felt his heart burst with life.

It was strange actually, he thought as everything around him burst into light.

It was strange that in Death, he found Life.

**cut**

_Put your hand in my hand_  
><em>and we'll stand.<em>

**cut**

Whiskey colored orbs opened to blinding white light and the feeling of almost unnatural weight in his whole body. He groaned as he closed his eyes and tried to turn his head away from the imposing light only to hear a chuckle coming from beside him. He squinted as he opened his eyes only to have his heart skip a beat and his eyes widen when he saw his father's form sitting in the chair beside his bed.

On the edges of his consciousness he concluded that he was in _his_ room, in _his_ bed, but he was too busy taking in his father to actually give all of that any thought.

"Hey, kid. Took you long enough."

"Dad?" his voice broke and his father chuckled. He looked worn out and tired beyond belief, but his eyes were full of warmth and happiness never the less.

"Your new _Lord and Master_ told us everything. He also told us that it would take you a few days for your body to catch up to your mind, but a week, son? I knew you were lazy but this-…" John's words died on his tongue when Stiles launched up and wrapped his arms around his dad's neck.

John gasped out harshly when Stiles threw himself at him, and his arms rose reflexively to wrap themselves around Stiles' thin frame. He buried his face in Stiles' neck to hide the tears which threatened to fall, and his mind came to a sharp stop as he breathed in his son's scent and basked in the warmth radiating from his body.

"I'm sorry, dad. I'm so sorry," Stiles whispered through tears and over the pain gathered in his throat, and his father only hugged him tighter.

"It's alright, son. You have nothing to feel sorry about. It's okay. It's okay," John murmured into Stiles' hair, holding on to him as though he would disappear in a second. "It's okay."

**cut**

"I don't know why, but somehow I knew I'd find you here."

Derek turned on his heel ready to shift in a second, only to freeze up and slam his mouth shut when he found Stiles leaning back against a tree with his arms crossed over his chest and an amused smirk on his face.

"Sorry," he said and shrugged. "I didn't mean to sneak up on you."

Derek hummed and looked at the Nemeton before he looked at Stiles again. The teen pushed himself away from the tree and walked onto the clearing surrounding the Nemeton.

Sun was slowly setting over the forest and it painted the world around them in the mysterious colors of orange, light blue and dark violet. Derek felt something in his chest twitch as he watched Stiles walking towards him with a sort of confidence Derek has never seen in the younger man.

Then again, this was no longer the Stiles he remembered.

Stiles changed; he changed a lot.

Gone was the spastic teen and in his place stood a young man with his shoulders always squared, back straight and stance confidant. He radiated awareness and readiness, and there was something about him that set everyone on edge a bit.

Lydia was the one most affected. For two whole weeks she could hardly stand being anywhere near Stiles alone. She said that his mere presence made the voices louder, and while Harry – _Death_ explained to them what happened to Stiles and what all that would mean for the teen, they still didn't expect to see such changes in him.

While Stiles was still sarcastic and cynical to a fault, he seemed to have calmed down. His lips were almost always stretched into a small smirk, and his eyes were full of shadows; shadows that weren't there before and which spoke of knowledge and power far beyond anything any of his friends could ever dream of.

They had yet to see Stiles' new powers, but something told them they weren't in a hurry to see them either.

"You okay there, Sourwolf?" the teen drawled as he walked closer and closer to Derek who straightened as a wave of coldness washed over him and shivers traveled all over his body.

"I'm fine," he said and Stiles raised an eyebrow at him as he tried to suppress a grin. Judging by the way the corners of his full lips turned a bit downwards and his eyes widened with amusement, he was failing.

"And that must be why you've been avoiding spending any time alone with me," he stated dully and Derek cleared his throat as he made himself look away from Stiles.

"What do you want, Stiles?" he asked as he turned his back on the teen, crossed his arms over his chest and looked at the Nemeton again.

"Can't I just want to spend time with you without any ulterior motives?"

"Stiles, you _always_ have ulterior motives," Derek grumbled and Stiles snickered as he stopped right beside Derek with his right shoulder brushing against Derek's left.

"Always?" he drawled and Derek snorted.

"Always."

Stiles snickered and for a few moments silence reigned between them. "You know - there's enough of me for the both of you," Stiles spoke up and Derek sighed.

"Stiles…"

"Derek!" the teen interrupted the werewolf and stepped in front of him. "Harry may be my _Lord and Master,_" he stressed out and rolled his eyes, "but you know just as well as I do that he's not cruel or evil. Besides, he will have me for all eternity. I'm his closest now and forever. You? How long do you think we will have? How long do you think these _human_ lives will last? Do you really want to lose precious time on me trying to convince you that this is really alright? Do you really want to lose years on something that will inevitably happen?"

Derek's lips pressed into a thin line and he looked to the side.

"Derek, I love you." His eyes widened and he looked at Stiles in shock. "I've loved you for a while now, even though you weren't there. I know you, Derek Hale. I can _see_ you. I can see right through you, and I _know_ that you want this. I _know_ you do. Why are you trying to deny yourself something that could be the best thing that happened in your life?"

The werewolf stared at Death's Closest with wide eyes full of confusion and such _need_ that it took Stiles' breath away. "You love…"

"I love you, Derek. I _do_," Stiles stressed out and took a step closer to the werewolf.

"But – But what about…"

"He was in my head." Stiles took another step closer to the werewolf, stopping hardly half a foot away from him. "I've seen his heart. I've seen his mind. He is _lonely_, Derek. Being Death is lonely and scary, and he's been alone for so long that he started believing that he will be alone forever. He was and still _is_ a good man, no matter the fact that he is Death; the most powerful being in the universe. He is lonely, and I was given the power to destroy that loneliness. I was given something – _someone_ who will always be there for me, and someone I can always be there for. He doesn't mind this, because he _knows_ that through _me_ he will also have you and the others. He just doesn't want to be alone anymore."

Derek swallowed difficultly and looked at the ground.

"Derek?"

He looked up a bit and his eyes met Stiles' whiskey colored orbs.

"Derek, do you want this?" Stiles insisted and Derek swallowed difficultly.

"I – I do. I do want this."

Stiles smiled at his words, and if Derek were to be honest he would admit that it was the most beautiful smile he has ever seen.

"Then don't fight it, Sourwolf. Or I'll sick the Hell Hounds on you, and they're not a funny bunch."

That startled a chuckle out of Derek and he shook his head as he took a step forward and closed the distance between himself and Stiles. He placed his hands on Stiles' hips and flattened his body against his. Stiles snickered and nudged Derek's nose with his.

"I'm shaking in my boots," Derek rumbled and amusement colored Stiles' eyes gold.

"You're wearing s-…" before Stiles could finish Derek moved in for a kiss.

It was different than Harry's slow and tender exploration of Stiles' mouth, but it was in no way better. It felt just as good, just as right as when Harry kissed him. Stiles sighed into Derek's mouth and wrapped his arms around his shoulders.

"Now, _that_ would make a dead man hot."

They jumped apart and turned around to find Harry sitting on the Nemeton with his legs crossed and leaning back on his hands.

"Oh, don't mind me!" he smirked and his eyes darkened. "You were just getting to the good part."

Stiles snickered and spared a glance for Derek who shifted his weight and cleared his throat.

"Harry, I…"

"I think Stiles said it all, Derek," Harry interrupted him and winked at the both of them. "I guess my days of boredom are gone." He smirked and Stiles chuckled as he made his way over to Harry.

Death stood up as Stiles reached his side, and he pulled Stiles into a kiss, making the teen moan and a growl rumble in Derek's chest. Harry chuckled as they parted and reached up to take his glasses off. "Come on, _Sourwolf,_" he drawled as he placed his glasses in the breast-pocket of his shirt. "Life is short and all that shebang."

Derek chuckled and shrugged massive shoulders. "At least it will be interesting," he muttered and made his way over to Harry and Stiles who exchanged an amused glance.

And as the Moon rose high into the sky, one Werewolf finally found his place, Death found his eternal companion and as for Stiles?

Well, after that night he could no longer mourn his virginity (or lack thereof).

**cut**

(1) Friedrich Nietzsche


	2. And We'll Stand

Written on ** 3's**request!

A short continuation of 'Death's closest'. I hope you liked it!

The song featuring in this story is 'The World Is Not Enough' sung by Garbage, written by D. Arnold, published by LYRICS©SONY/ATV MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC.

**WARNING!** EXPLICIT CONTENT, VIOLENCE AND GORE! RATED **M** FOR A REASON KIDDIES! SMUTTY AND VERY DARK IN THE END!

**cut**

"It has been done."

Glowing amber orbs met endless emerald eyes which showed such an array of emotion that the younger between them couldn't help but feel overwhelmed.

"You're doing it again," Stiles said and the owner of those ethereal eyes raised eyebrows making him smile. "Your eyes are _glowing_with emotions."

"Ah!" thin, but _oh so soft_ lips stretched into a small, mysterious smile. "I thought we concluded that you are the one to be blamed for that. After all, you are the one who made Death _feel_, Stiles."

Further conversation was stopped by the sound of soft paws hitting the floor and both turned to look at a huge black dog resembling a rottweiler, but with its jaw jutting out a bit more and two sharp fangs protruding upwards. A pair of glowing red eyes looked up at them and Stiles chuckled as he reached out with his hands to pat its head.

"You're back already, Reema?" Stiles kneeled as the hound rumbled low in its chest and nuzzled against the amber-eyed man's chest. "Who is next, Harry?" he looked at Death and the emerald-eyed man smirked and snapped his fingers. A slip of paper appeared in the air and floated around for a moment before Harry snatched it and turned it over to read what it said.

"Oh!" Stiles shivered and his lips dried when those eyes darkened and lips stretched into a dark smirk. "I have been waiting for this one." The voice which could make Stiles come just by whispering in his ear now sent a set of completely different shivers down his spine.

"Is it Grayback?"

Harry chuckled darkly and the slip of paper burned out in black flames.

"I think I should handle this one alone, Stiles."

Death's Closest frowned and patted Reema's head before he stood up and walked over to stand right in front of the slightly taller man.

"You know I don't like you doing anything alone; not now when I can truly follow you wherever you go without worrying about my family and friends. They are all in Heaven now. I am yours and yours alone."

Harry laughed quietly and placed his hands on Stiles' thin waist to pull him flat against his strong body. Stiles sighed as Harry's lips settled over his, and a wave of powerful energy washed over him awakening every nerve in his body.

"That does not mean I want you to see this, Stiles."

The younger man breathed out when Harry whispered against his lips and licked along the seam, strong, warm hands rubbing circles in his sides before they settled on his hips, pulling him flat against that strong, unyielding body.

"This is personal. He is the last remnant of my past. It will not be a pretty sight."

**cut**

_I know how to hurt.__  
><em>_I know hot to heal.__  
><em>_I know what to show and what to conceal._

**cut**

"I am your Closest, _my Lord_," Stiles teased although there was a note of seriousness in his voice, and Death's Closest rubbed his hands up Harry's muscled stomach and chest before he cupped his Master's face between them and looked straight into those soul-searing eyes. "There is nothing you can do or say that will make me leave your side. Besides, like you've said – he is the last remnant of your past, the last remaining cause which made you into what you are today; the last cause to your consequence." A smirk stretched Stiles' lips and his eyes darkened. "I want to _thank him_."

Harry smiled and tilted his head to the side to place a kiss in the middle of Stiles' left palm.

Stiles gasped and shivered when Harry took a gentle hold of his left forearm as his littered kisses and nips down his palm and to his wrist, only to lightly bite into the vein he found there. Stiles' knees were already feeling week and his mouth went dry, yearning for those skillful lips and dexterous tongue to take every sane thought from him again.

"Harry-…"

"You have no idea what it does to me when you speak like that," Harry voice was a low, rumbling, slightly distorted purr, and a breathless whimper escaped Stiles' lips. Harry tugged on Stiles' arm and pulled him flat against his body again, dipping Stiles' head down to latch his lips on Stiles' neck, making the younger man tilt his head back, eyes slipping closed.

Reema rumbled and vanished, leaving the two alone.

"Harry…"

"Hush."

Stiles felt teeth nibbling on his left earlobe and a satisfied sigh escaped his lips.

"I waited to do this for years. I can be patient for a few more hours."

**cut**

_I know when to talk__  
><em>_and I know when to touch;__  
><em>_no one ever died from wanting too much._

**cut**

Stiles shivered when his back touched a soft surface and his eyes opened, a breathless chuckle escaping his lips when he realized that they were in a big, spacious black room with a bed in the middle of it. In the fireplace across from them a fire was dancing to a light, lazy rhythm. He looked up and licked his lips when he saw Harry's eyes dilated with passion, desire, love and adoration. He raised his hands and cupped Harry's face, pulling him down into a slow, languid kiss.

Every nerve in his body ignited when he felt chilly hands push under his shirt and caress his over-sensitive skin. He pushed himself up a bit as Harry moved his shirt up. He flung it over his shoulder and Stiles felt as though those amazing eyes were devouring him. Harry leaned down slowly and teased Stiles' lips into a deep kiss with tender licks and nips. He rubbed Stiles' pert, dusky nipples with his thumbs as he kissed down his chin, while Stiles made an effort of unbuttoning Harry's long-sleeved, black, skin-tight shirt with trembling fingers.

No matter how many times he did this with either only Harry or Harry and Derek, he was always, _always_ so apprehensive. With each button, more of that perfect pale skin was revealed, and Stiles felt as though his chest was filled with something heavy. He placed his hands on Harry's chest and inclined his hands upwards, pushing Harry's shirt off of his shoulders as he rubbed those flexing muscles with his fingers.

He was already painfully hard in his tight pants, but Harry seemed to be in no hurry as he kissed and nipped on Stiles' neck and shoulder.

"Harry?" he breathed out and Harry hummed distractedly as he moved lower, moving his hands to Stiles' waist as he covered his right nipple with his lips and teased it into hardness with his tongue and teeth, drawing a choked up moan from Stiles.

He felt Harry's hands crawl into his pants and his hips snapped up reflexively making Harry chuckle as he kissed down Stiles' stomach. Stiles hands fisted in the covers above his head when Harry mouthed his aching cock through the thin material of his boxers. It took incredible effort for him to stop himself from bucking up as Harry lazily pushed his pants to his knees and down his calves all the while pressing loving, open mouthed kisses on Stiles' hipbones, his still clothed cock and the inside of his thighs.

Once he tugged his pants off, Harry trailed his fingers up Stiles' calves, knees and thighs, and as he gazed up at Stiles' face, his eyes turned black with passion.

"H-Harry!" Stiles yelped and shivered when Harry sucked on the head of his cock through his boxers just as his fingers slipped under the waistband. Stiles threw his head back and mewled as Harry pulled his boxers over his aching cock, finally setting it free. "Harry, p – please, don't tease!" Death chuckled as he licked the underside of Stiles' cock while he tugged the last piece of clothing off of him. The boxers joined the rest of Stiles' clothes somewhere on the floor just as Harry mouthed the younger man's member, moaning at the taste.

He glanced up and his cock twitched in his trousers at the sight of Stiles' head thrown back in passion, his hair sticking to his forehead and lashes resting against blushing cheeks. His lips were parted and red, and choked up moans and straining gasps rolled off of them, creating the sweetest music in the world. His skin all but glowed in the light of the fire, and the dark red, silk sheets under him only enhanced his natural beauty.

Overcome with the feeling of humbleness, Death stopped his ministrations and slowly climbed over the younger man. Burning amber eyes opened, and Stiles took a deep breath before he looked in Harry's eyes.

"You stopped," he complained in confusion, and Harry smiled a loving smile. He bowed down and kissed Stiles lovingly, pouring every emotion Stiles brought into his heart; the heart he thought was no longer capable of feeling. Stiles gave him his heart, and Harry?

He would give Stiles the world.

**cut**

_The world is not enough,__  
><em>_but it is such a perfect place to start, my love._

**cut**

"Please, don't stop?" the younger man mouthed against Harry's lips, his hands cupping Harry's cheeks as he slowly ground his pelvis against Harry's making a growl rumble in Death's chest. He bowed down and bit into Stiles' neck as he rubbed against him, his fingers fisted in the sheets on either sides of Stiles' shoulders.

Unable to find the satisfaction he so craved, Stiles concentrated on the Spark of Will Harry taught him how to use. He focused every single thought on the simple wish he had, and a surge of delight passed up his spine when Harry's clothes vanished into thin air. Death chuckled and raised his head a bit, his glimmering eyes meeting Stiles' dilated orbs.

"You were somewhat overdressed for the occasion, my Lord," Stiles drawled teasingly and Harry smirked as he crawled backwards. He settled between Stiles' parted legs and with a snap of his fingers a small, golden, intricately designed, round box the size of a man's fist, appeared in his right hand. The lid vanished and the scent of incense and rainforests filled the air. He glanced up at Stiles as he placed the box on the bed and dipped the fingers of his right hand into the warm oil inside it.

He kept his eyes locked onto Stiles' as he bowed down to lick the head of his cock, simultaneously moving his sleek fingers to Stiles' entrance. The younger man let go of a wavering breath, his head falling back against the bed as he felt Harry's thumb rub his entrance teasingly and his lips close around the head of his cock. He groaned and his torso arched up as Harry slowly took him in, at the same time pushing one sleek finger inside him.

It stopped hurting or being uncomfortable a long, _long_ time ago. The only thing Stiles felt was pleasure; complete, almost unimaginable pleasure.

Harry knew just where to touch to make him lose his breath. He knew how to twist his fingers to make him twitch and moan. He knew when to lick or suck, how fast or slow to do so to bring him to the brink of an orgasm and keep him there, teetering on the edge, but unable to fall over.

Even in _death_ Harry knew how to make him feel _alive._

**cut**

_People like us__  
><em>_know how to survive;__  
><em>_there's no point in living if you can't feel alive._

**cut**

For something as simple as loving him (for it was indeed surprisingly easy to love Harry), Death gave him the world. He gave him the opportunity to live forever, to always know where his loved ones were; to always be able to see them and talk to them. All he asked for was for Stiles to love him. He gave Stiles everything, and he kept giving him more.

The world was theirs for the taking.

"Harry!" Stiles cried out when the fingers inside him rubbed against his prostate. Harry huffed when he found himself on his back within a second, only to gasp when Stiles straddled him and leaned over him with his hands on Harry's chest.

"Don't forget that we have a _beast_ to tame, my Lord," Stiles pressed out through his teeth as he positioned his trembling body. "We will have time for you to tease me later." He felt the tip of Harry's hot, hard dick against his loosened entrance and grinned down at Death before he took him in. He threw his head back with a choked up, victorious moan, and his heart clenched in his chest as Harry's gasp echoed around the dark space they were in. He looked down at Harry and swallowed at the sight.

It brought him more than just happiness; the knowledge that he was the only one who could make Death lose all composure. The fact that he was the only one that could make Death _feel_, that he was Death's _undoing_ felt better than anything ever could.

Death's pale skin shone like white granite under the light of a pale, blue moon, his raven black hair looked like a halo of darkness, and only a thin rim of bright emerald could be seen around his dilated pupils. Death's fingers dug into the soft skin of Stiles' strong thighs with bruising force, stopping any further movement.

"You gave me the world, Harry," Stiles murmured and rubbed his hands up Harry's chest as he leaned forward. He loomed over him with his elbows on either side of Harry's head, and rested his forehead against Harry's, looking deep into the eyes of Death; the only creature in the world who could do so and survive. "Allow me to return in kind," he whispered against Harry's lips.

"You already gave me enough, Stiles," Harry's hands moved to take a firm hold of Stiles' ass, and the younger man gasped when Harry moved. "You already gave me more than enough."

The rhythm was relentless, borderline _brutal_, but it was perfect; it was absolutely perfect. Their breathless gasps mixed between their mouths, skin slid against skin, and their power snapped and danced around them.

Unable to form a coherent thought, much less press it beyond the building pile of emotions in his throat, Stiles could only gasp and moan and _feel_.

"Come for me, Stiles. Come for me," those words whispered against his right ear were Stiles' undoing, and out-worldly pleasure washed over his body, burned his soul, and engraved itself into the core of his very being.

Seconds later, another wave of warmth filled him, and he forced himself to open his eyes and take in the sight of his Lord and Master with his head thrown back, lips open in a silent scream and eyes full of _light_.

He rested his head on Harry's chest, enjoying the way Harry caressed his back in slow, tender, loving strokes. He tucked his head under Harry's chin and shivered after Harry kissed the top of his head.

"I must go," Death spoke gravely and Stiles sighed in slight disappointment. He groaned when Harry pulled out of him and slowly rolled them over to their sides. Harry leaned on his left elbow and looked down at Stiles with a small smile. "Do you still wish to go with me?" he asked and Stiles chuckled as he raised his left hand and caressed Harry's right cheek with the back of his fingers.

"I've left my past behind me, Harry," Stiles murmured, a small smile tugging on his lips at the memory of the good life he lead with his friends and family. "You were there for me when my dad passed. We were together when Derek passed as well. You were there for Scott and everyone. I will be there with you for the last piece of your past."

Harry smiled and leaned down to kiss Stiles' forehead. "You already gave me everything anyone could ever wish for, Stiles," he said and Stiles smiled as he licked his lips.

"And you gave me the world, Harry. I think we're _more_ than even."

Harry chuckled and shook his head. "Come on, then." He stood up and tight black clothes materialized on his muscled, beautiful body.

Stiles hummed in slight disappointment but stood up and willed some trousers and a light, black t-shirt to clothe his body, and a comfortable pair of sneakers to appear on his feet. He looked at Harry when he felt a shiver of power in the air and the room they were in disappeared into darkness.

He approached Harry and leaned into his embrace when Harry wrapped his left arm around his waist. With threatening howls at least 10 Hell Hounds with blood-thirst in their red eyes appeared around them. Reema took a step forward and looked at Harry.

"It is time."

**cut**

_We know when to kiss__  
><em>_and we know when to kill.__  
><em>_If we can't have it all,__  
><em>_then nobody will._

**cut**

Pain filled screams echoed through the set of underground caves followed by rage-full growls and threatening roars. The sound of snapping bones and tearing skin bounced off of the stone walls.

In the back stood Death, staring with cold eyes at the scene of his Hounds tearing Fenrir Grayback apart.

"Feast, my little ones," he murmured.

A shiver ran down Death's spine when a loving hand settled between his shoulder-blades and he looked over his right shoulder at his Closest.

Amber eyes stared with morbid fascination at the scene in front of them, and Death felt something shift in the pit of his stomach when he saw his eternal lover lick full, cupid-bow lips.

"He will suffer forever," Death spoke in a tone heavy with finality. "By reliving his death over and over for all eternity, he will pay for all the lives he took and ruined."

Stiles swallowed and leaned on Harry. "I would say I pity those who anger you," he looked in Harry's eyes and shook his head, "but they deserve it. They _all_ deserve it."

Harry hummed and bowed down to kiss Stiles lightly. He heard the last choked up breath Fenrir took, choking on his own blood, and felt as though a mountain fell off of his back.

"Let's go, love. We are done here."

Darkness swallowed them and they left the last piece of their past behind.

From that moment on they would move forward side by side, Death and his Closest, his Consort, forever to deliver Justice to both the dead _and_ the living.

**cut**

**I hope you liked it!**

**It's not exactly what I had in mind when I started writing this, but – meeeh! I like it!**

**Tell me if you do too!**

**All my love,**

**Ms. Yuki**


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